The Dragon's Heir
by Pepper Dine
Summary: With a single father and a past that weighs on his young shoulders, Scorpius discovers a few truths to life that shatter his innocent world. And how does Harry Potter factor into this?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_Draco,_

_The divorce has been finalized. Meet me at King Cross Station at four in the evening to claim your inheritance._

_-Astoria_

Draco Malfoy crumpled the scented parchment and threw it into the hearth where it burst into flames of orange and angry red. To say he was bitter would be an understatement. He was furious! But he couldn't really blame her.

Pulling on his coat and dark gloves, he picked up his single suitcase and, taking one last look around the gloomy manor, promptly diasapparated with a loud _pop!_

King Cross was busy as ever even without the swarm of Hogwarts students. Draco stood discreetly behind a brick pillar, awaiting the arrival of the train at Platform seven and two-fifths. Passerby stared openly at him, some turning their noses in disgust. Compared to the severity of discrimination Draco had expected, this was fairly mild and tolerable. He simply ignored the cruel whispers that buzzed around him like an annoying cloud of hornets.

He had made sure to arrive earlier than necessary and so didn't have to endure long. The green and black steam engine puffed to a stop five minutes later, blaring its whistle noisily. The conductor announced its arrival as the doors opened and passengers poured out.

Astoria Malfoy was easy enough to spot. She stood out in the bleak crowd after all. Tall and elegant, she stepped off the train dressed in heavy white furs and dangling a golden handbag. A house elf stumbled in her wake, cradling a bundle in its arms.

She saw him leaning against the pillar and their eyes met briefly before she briskly made her way towards him.

"Draco," she coldly greeted in a voice his father certainly would have approved of in a Malfoy.

Draco merely nodded. She looked as beautiful as ever, her pale skin glowing in the dim sunlight. The war hadn't reached Germany.

"Tipsy! Hand him over," she commanded and the house elf meekly held up its skinny arms.

Draco hesitated for a second, unsure whether his arms could be trusted with a weight so fragile, but he wanted to end the meeting as fast as possible.

Bending down, he carefully gathered the bundle to him and peered into the folds. The baby boy was fast asleep, snuggled in the furry depths. Astoria saw his stone cold features soften before her eyes and something cold clenched her heart.

"Now that that's over, I'll take your leave," she bit out and was about to turn, when his voice arrested her.

"Astoria…What is his name?"

She shrugged. "He doesn't have one. Call him what you will."

Draco's eyes flashed. "You mean to tell me that you had him for a whole year and couldn't so much as give him a name?"

"Oh that's fine Draco!" she laughed bitterly. "We both know how _welcome _he was. I wouldn't even have had him if you hadn't insisted! I kept him for the duration of your silly war and now that it's over, he's your responsibility."

"You're his mother," Draco quietly replied.

"_Was," _she sharply corrected. "He's not my son and never will be. He's just the product of the liaison your father made with mine. I never wanted to marry you and in the future, I don't want anything to do with your or your son. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Draco spoke through clenched teeth.

"Very well then, have a nice life. Come Tipsy!" and with a brisk wave of her manicured hand, Astoria made her way down the platform.

Draco glared after his ex-wife until she disappeared around the corner. And to think he had ever _loved _this heartless woman…

* * *

><p>He had no assets. After his father's imprisonment, Gringotts had proceeded to seal their vaults. Then his mother had made a dramatic exit by taking her own life one fine winter night, allowing the Ministry to capture their estates while the <em>Daily Prophet<em> dissolved what little dignity they had managed to salvage.

_It was bound to happen sometime, _Draco glumly thought as he stood outside the dingy, run-down tavern. Times were changing drastically after the war. It had barely been a year and yet the Ministry had completely rebuilt itself.

Potter, he bitterly remembered, had been appointed the new head of the Auror department in the Ministry's top investigation squad and Granger had made her way to the seat of power at St. Mungo's. Both "the youngest wizard and witch to ever shoulder such great responsibility!" according to the _Daily Prophet. _ Even Ron Weasley, for all his short comings, had earned a position at Gringotts as a curse breaker alongside his infamous brother Bill.

Draco sighed and wearily made his way into the tavern, cradling the silent bundle in one arm while hoisting the heavy suitcase with the other. He had transfigured himself into a less conspicuous wizard, getting rid of his blonde tresses and easily-recognizable Malfoy features. What he couldn't get rid of even if he tried was his ever-proud bearing and the almost lordly way with which his austere eyes surveyed the uncivilized company-_his_ company for the coming weeks, he dully thought.

"A room and bath," he told the owner before the fat man could utter a word or insult. "I want no interruptions, no meals, and absolutely no visitors. I do not exist."

The bearded man gaped for a second before nodding and taking the handful of gold galleons Draco slipped him through the folds of his robes.

"Right, Maria!" A red-head bustled through a door on the right, wiping her hands on an apron. "Take uh-" the man looked at Draco, but Draco made no effort to offer his name. "-well take this _gentlemen _to the room out back."

She surveyed him up and down before taking the key from a hook on the wall and beckoning for him to follow. The room was at the very end of a long, narrow hallway, dark and full of cobwebs. Taverns generally got visitors only for a drink these days. People were too busy hiding or rebuilding to stay the night.

"The room gets a bi' cold during the night, but there's extra blankets in the cupboard if you need 'em," Maria said as she unlocked the door and dropped the key in his outstretched hand. "There's milk in the kitchens also-for the babe if it needs it."

Draco couldn't conceal his surprise, but she only gave him a small smile before meandering away. He shook his head after her, muttering about women and their strange ways as he lugged his suitcase inside. Closing the door, he stood surveying the room for a moment.

It was drastically small and so…_gloomy! _There was a bed big enough for two with burgundy sheets he hoped were clean. The curtains were thin and a bit frayed on the sole rectangular window overlooking an endless street full of pubs and bars. The bathroom had a small tub, toilet, and a sink the size of a bowl. The mirror was large enough to fit a face from one tip of the ear to the other. There was a wooden desk and a rickety chair.

Nothing that Draco hadn't expected in the cheap setting. He sighed and was about to run a tired hand through his untransfigured hair, when the bundle's movement startled him. As though scalded, Draco quickly deposited the bundle on the bed and leaned over with bated breath.

A little coo of a sound issued forth as the baby boy wriggled in his restraints, growing even more restless when he found he couldn't free himself. Afraid he would start crying and create a scene, Draco transfigured to himself, hoping a familiar feature might soothe him, before he bent closer till he could clearly trace the baby's features.

His son immediately grew still when he saw Draco hovering over him. His eyes, shaped like almonds, stared innocently at him, their color a deep, dark blue.

_He has Astoria's eyes, _Draco thought, smiling thinly when the baby boy began to wriggle again. Reaching down, Draco carefully unwrapped the furs and as soon as the thick bundle fell away, the baby frantically began kicking his arms and legs, lips parted in silent glee. Draco couldn't help but laugh at the burst of energy.

"You're an active one, aren't you?" he said, fingering the baby's closed wrist.

Little fingers unraveled to rewrap around his own long finger. Draco marveled at the tiny hand closing over him. He ran his other finger over the smooth, soft knuckle and couldn't help but bend down and touch his lips to the small palm.

The baby boy made a happy, gurgling sound, as though Draco's lips tickled him. Draco smiled again and bravely scooped his son into his arms, holding him with one hand behind the warm back and supporting his neck, letting his tiny legs kick him in sheer excitement.

"You need a name," he softly said, unable to look away from a face that mirrored his own.

He had his mother's eyes, yes, but the nose and chin were clearly Draco's. The hair too was fine and blonde-though thicker and softer. His lips were tiny and shaped like rose petals, a deep pink. For a newly born, his skin was far too pale and so ethereal that Draco feared the harsh sunlight would turn him to dust!

"Father would have liked to stick to tradition and name you after a constellation or a star," he mused aloud, "-and I can't see why we shouldn't agree just this once…"

He suddenly thought of Lucious, locked in his cold cell and awaiting the Dementor's Kiss. He would never know that he had a grandson and he would die without ever once holding him.

The baby cooed again, grabbing a handful of blonde hair and giving it a vicious tug.

"Ah-ow!" Draco cried, unsuccessfully trying to loosen the baby's strong grasp. "You want me to hurry up with your name, is that it?" he laughed, holding the baby closer to lessen the strain on his own hair. "Well, these things take time, you know."

And he traced his son's features again as though hoping to find the answer there.

"Hmm…I could name you after myself because frankly, I really can't think of a better name than Draco for a boy, but I don't want you to be plagued by my ghosts…No-" and he bent down and kissed the tiny nose, which wrinkled like a rabbit's under Draco's warm breath. "How about Orion, the huntsman? He was a great huntsman you know, and no one really knows how he died. Although some say he was stung by a scorpion…"

He became thoughtful again. Names were important to Draco and, as he prided in his own name, he wanted to give his son something to be proud of and look up to. But he wanted something intimidating and yet soft at the same time. His son was going to be proud, yes, but not arrogant, and he most certainly wasn't going to commit the mistakes Draco had.

"Scorpius," he suddenly said as the baby gurgled again, this time sticking a fistful of blonde hair in his mouth. But Draco was too lost to notice. "Yes, Scorpius…Orion Malfoy-no, perhaps we should rechristen you Black? You wouldn't like the Malfoys. Everyone says they are a bad lot…Your grandmother was a Black and I always loved her."

Draco smiled sadly, thinking of what he would tell him if his son were to ever question his past or wonder about his relatives. But that was a long time yet to come.

He gently pulled the tiny, wet fist from its owner's mouth and made to disentangle his wet hair from the unruly fingers, giving up a second time when another fist wound its way unnoticed in his blonde locks.

"Scorpius Orion Black, then," Draco announced to no one in particular and smiled softly when young Scorpius made a sound as though voicing approval. "Like it, do we? Well-" and Draco forcefully tugged his hair from one clenched fist, saying, "-let's just hope you can live up to it like the brave hunter you are and not some hair fisting little bugger, eh?"

But of course Scorpius, having noticed a loose strand snaking its way down the side of Draco's neck, threw caution to the winds and happily attacked, much to the amusement of his unsuspecting, young father.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Harry Potter sighed contently as he lay on his back, buried under heaps of thick blankets, his heart wrapped in a warm and fuzzy feeling. He could hear the shower running and he briefly closed his eyes, picturing the warm water cascading down an equally warm and pale body. Merlin he loved her! And he could never have enough.

He was blissfully scheming on how best to _distract _her when a loud shout followed by thumping steps and cries of, "Dad! Tell him to stop! He-Dad!" echoed around the corridor.

Sighing, Harry Potter, father of three and designated mischief controller, rolled out of bed and traced the mayhem before anyone got hurt.

"Hey, hey James, Albus-what's going on here?" he called holding back his eldest by the scruff of his shirt while Albus scurried behind his legs.

"Dad, he got into my stuff again when I told him a hundred times not to go shifting through my things!" James accused, pointing a finger at his younger brother who was now cowering.'

"B-but-"

"Albus-" Harry began, "-you know what we've said about going into your brother's room without permission and James, I've fixed that lock on the door haven't I?"

James shrugged. "Well, tell him to mind his own business!" he huffed before turning heel and slamming the door to his room.

Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead wearily. James was only twelve, but the boy liked his privacy more than anyone he knew.

"Daddy, he's mad at me again, isn't he?" Albus innocently asked, turning his large green eyes on his father.

Harry smiled and scooped the ten-year-old into his arms. "He'll come around. You know he can't stay angry for long."

"What was that commotion? Did you two fight again?" Ginny Weasley stood in the doorway, drying her long red hair, dressed in a pink barthrobe.

Albus buried his face in his father's neck, ashamed, and refused to answer. Harry chuckled, ruffling his son's dark hair before setting him down and sending him off with a reassuring pat on the butt.

"Just the usual, Gin," he said, bending down to give her a soft kiss. "Mm…lavender-did you change the soap again?"

She smiled and pulled her husband close, letting him run calloused hands through her wet hair. "It's Lily's birthday today. What have you planned, love?" she murmured, knowing Harry loved to surprise his children.

"I was thinking a nice trip to Diagon Alley to buy heaps of presents and then a tour down the new amusement park she's been squealing about. It'll keep the boys busy too." _And give us much needed alone time, _he needn't add. Ginny understood him perfectly.

"We will be inviting Ron and Hermione?"

"And go over to Molly's in the evening and drop by Andromeda's-yes, yes, as always." Since his parent's unfortunate death, Ted Tonks lived with Andromeda Black, a kind enough witch who was also close to Tonk's parents and whom Teddy had come to love as his own.

"Then we best get ready before Lily wakes up-" and with a soft kiss, she left her husband standing in the corridor, longing and longing forevermore.

* * *

><p>"Father? Father!"<p>

Draco rolled over on his back and cracked an eye open. "Scor? Why are you up?" he grumbled, noting that it was only 6 am and that his son had crawled by him, eyes wide awake.

"Father, you forgot what day it was today, didn't you?"

The disappointment in his voice was unmistakable. Draco pushed himself up, his blonde hair ruffled every which way and tried to think hard. "No…I haven't-"

"You _have _or you wouldn't still be in bed!" Scorpius pouted.

"Well then, why don't you remind me?" Draco smiled, running a hand through his son's blonde locks.

Scorpius shot him a glare, but replied with a huff, "You were supposed to take me to Diagon Alley today-the new Shooting Star's coming out and _I want to see it!"_

"Oh." It was that day already was it?

"You will take me, won't you?" Scorpius pleaded, noting how his father's smile faded with his words. For reasons he couldn't understand, his father hated going to Diagon Alley-or anywhere else for that matter. He had taken him readily enough around muggle London, seeming at ease there even though there were no witches or wizards. Scorpius had merely gotten bored and demanded his father take him to Diagon Alley where _real _magic was. On a moment of impulse, Draco had agreed if only he would wait till the new broom every young wizard was craving for arrived.

And now the day was here-and Draco felt the dread pooling at his stupidity. He wouldn't go back on his promise of course-he wasn't going to lie to his son, but he dreaded going into the crowd he had abandoned eight years ago.

"Father, father hurry up!" Scorpius cried from the kitchen. He was already dressed in a long coat, boots, and scarf, and was pulling on his gloves when Draco appeared. He accepted the plate of breakfast-a cold sandwich and a glass of milk-that his son had hastily prepared, and downed it as fast as he could while Scorpius shuffled impatiently beside him.

"I still need to pull on my boots, so can you tell Maria where we're going? Tell her not to worry and we'll be back before the evening."

Scorpius dashed out the door before he was finished. Chuckling at his son's enthusiasm, Draco slipped his feet into the snowshoes and bent down to lace them. He pulled on his cloak and hat, making sure it fell low over his eyes, before locking the doors with a quick swish of his wand.

He had finally purchased a new one not four years ago at the new wand shop where Olivander's used to be: it was cherry bark with a dragon string and-strangely enough- threstal core. He'd never encountered a wand containing any piece of a threstal before. The wand maker had looked at him funny, handing over the wand without comment, as though Draco were an ill omen.

He waited on the porch for his son to return. It was a cold, December day-exactly two days before Christmas. Draco watched his breath form a cloud of vapor and spiral towards the gloomy sky. The streets were quiet and there were no burning candles in the few houses that surrounded them. Bewtich Alley was just as dreary, empty, and abandoned as Draco remembered it from the first day he'd arrived. Only now, he had officially become a part of the dreary scene, having lived here for eight years.

"I told her," Scorpius panted as he slowed to a stop, his cheeks red from the cold. "Now can we go?"

"Yes, let's-" and Draco offered him his hand which the boy took without shame, curling his gloved finger around his father's long, cold ones.

"How fast do you think this one will go?" he asked as they tramped through the snow to where the Floo networks were located. "Do you think it's as fast as the last Nimbus-or the Firebolt 3?"

"Mm…It's supposed to be twice as fast as any Nimbus ever built. I think we can assume it won't be beaten by any old broom anytime soon."

"Wicked!" Scorpius grinned, absorbing the new information before attacking his father with more questions.

_Where in the world does he get his inquisitive streak? _Draco wondered as they stepped into the hearth and Scorpius was forced to stop chatting momentarily.

"Diagon Alley!" Draco bellowed, throwing the powder and engulfing them in green flames. He steadied Scorpius once the hearth spit them out and the boy went right on chatting.

_I certainly was never talkative, _Draco mused, watching his son's animated face as he spoke happily, _Perhaps Astoria…_ He briefly closed his eyes as a pang of guilt hit him. Astoria…He still hadn't told his son about her. The first time Scorpius had asked, he had only been five and Draco hadn't been able to tell him the painful truth. What sort of child wanted to know that his own mother had refused to have him and thrown him away out of hatred?

So Draco had settled for a lie: his mother had died after his birth, but she loved him very much and was always watching over him. At least the lie allowed Scorpius to live his innocent life without guilt.

"Father?" Scorpius shook his hand.

"Hm?" Draco looked down at him, into his brilliant blue eyes.

"Can we go in there? It looks so fun…"

Draco looked where his small finger pointed and his heart sank: the Weasley's joke shop. Since the end of the war, it's popularity had soared even more and it was twice as large as it was before. True, it was manned by only one of the twins, the other having died in the battle at Hogwarts, but the shop hadn't lost its purpose.

"You can go, Scorpius. I'll wait in that pub-" he pointed to a dingy pub down the corner. "I'll come for you in twenty minutes, alright?"

Scorpius nodded and headed towards the shop, wishing his father would come with him. He never went inside any shops in Diagon Alley and always took Maria with him whenever they had to visit shops for Scorpius' clothes. He waited outside while Scorpius dressed for Maria and she handed the money his father gave her for the purchase. His worries however were soon dashed as he became lost in the wonderful products that lined shelf upon shelf in the delightful shop.

Making sure Scorpius found his way to the shop and disappeared safely inside, Draco made his way to the lonely pub, but instead of going inside and buying himself a drink, he stood outside, shivering in the cold. It was especially chilly this winter and his cold hands were practically going numb from it. He stood, hat pulled low over his eyes, surveying the crowd, even though the crowd hardly paid him any heed.

No one had recognized him so far, although he had thought he saw an evil eye on more than one occasion. The more people forgot him the better. He didn't want his son to suffer for his mistakes if he could help it.

Feeling a bit happier that he was able to give Scorpius at least one thing he'd wished for, Draco dug into his coat pocket and fingered the galleons he had saved up. His son's birthday fell just after Christmas, but Scorpius liked to celebrate it on Christmas, saying he liked the "glowing" trees and happy air better. Draco couldn't have chosen a better day to celebrate his son's coming-he was a happy blessing to him after all. He was the light that had guided him in times of darkness and he continued to do so. Scorpius had no idea how grateful Draco was to have him by his side on such occasions.

Thinking of surprising Scorpius with a few treats of his own, Draco followed the crowd and entered a candy store he used to come to often whenever he had spare change from his other numerous purchases. Thinking back now, Draco felt a bit guilty for how haphazardly he used to spend money on silly purchases. His father never questioned him in his accounts, although he made Draco keep a neat checkbook and Draco always got what he wanted because of his large allowance.

Now however, his son had nothing and Draco wasn't able to give more than a bag of candy or a new set of toy brooms. He felt immeasurably sad for being such a cheap father, but the gratified, happy look in Scorpius' eyes whenever he unwrapped his small, but lovingly wrapped presents, never failed to warm Draco's heart. His son was the only happiness left to him after all.

He stood in the colorful shop, debating between a handsome box of chocolate frogs or the new flavored fizzing popsticks, frowning slightly as he wondered which one his son would appeal to most. He was so distracted, that he didn't hear the bell on the shop tinkle as it allowed an addition. Having made up his mind, Draco dived for the chocolate frogs and was about to head for the counter when something collided against his legs with a shriek, startling him.

"Ow!" came a cry as something small and brown and pink plomped down. There was a thud as a box of assorted jellies spilled across the tile floor in a colorful array. "Now look what you've done!" the little girl huffed, turning her large, brown eyes accusingly up at him.

Draco recovered quickly from his surprise. "I'm sorry. Didn't see you there," he apologized as she got to her feet, tossing back a mop of bushy chestnut hair and brushing invisible dust off her pink jacket.

"Didn't see me? Aren't _you _the tall one?" And she bent down to pick up the mess. Draco watched her, amused, as she complained about him, her small hands struggling to cup all the jelly beans. Feeling suddenly drawn, he knelt down to help her and between them, they sorted all the jellies back into the box.

"There you go miss," he smiled, closing the lid and handing her the box with a flourish.

She took it from him with a glare and then let out a long suffering sigh. "I suppose it can't be helped. You are tall," she reasoned, by way of accepting his apology. "My daddy always says tall people can never see under their feet. It's no wonder he trips over everything." She looked at him for a second more before continuing, "But _you _aren't as tall as my daddy. You should watch where you're going sir."

Impressed, he humored her. "I'll keep that in mind miss. Thank you for the advice. May I know how old you are?"

"I'm ten!" she beamed. "I'll be going to Hogwarts next year."

_Same age as Scorpius, _he noted. "And what's a young lady like you doing wandering about the shops by yourself?"

"Oh, I'm not by myself! Daddy's with me," she replied and he nodded in relief as she scanned outside. "See? Look!" she suddenly cried, pointing out the window.

He followed her finger to the tall man dressed in a long coat who was arguing playfully with another shorter man with glasses and unmistakable dark hair. Draco's stomach churned. He stood frozen as the girl babbled on.

"Daddy said I could get candy because I've been a good girl. Mummy never lets me have any because she says I'll ruin my teeth."

"What's your name?" Draco whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Oh, I'm Rosalind Weasley," she said and, having noticed his shifting gaze added, "That's Uncle Harry. He and Daddy fight a lot."

Draco turned back to the little girl, raking his eyes over her unmistakable features. The bushy hair, a mixture of red and brown, the slightly tanned skin, the barely noticeable freckles on her round nose, the large chocolate eyes…

_The product of Granger and Weasel, _he thought dryly. How could he not have noticed? He turned to look out the window again and saw to his dismay that the rather large Gryffindor group was moving towards the shop.

Ignoring the little girl who had wandered amongst the shelves, Draco strode towards the counter and unceremoniously thrust the money in the man's hands. Before the storekeeper could so much as breathe his hatred on him, Draco stalked out. The Golden Boy and his entourage didn't notice him as he nervously passed them, one hand holding the hat lower over his eyes.

_That was too close! _He paused and turned to look over his shoulder. Potter and Weasley were laughing and chatting rather loudly as they guided a group of kids towards the shop. Potter's hands were full with a small girl, her dark, ruffled hair mirroring his own. Three boys scrambled about the men, laughing and shouting as they played whatever game they were playing. Two of them were undoubtedly Potter's. The other smaller and younger boy was probably Weasley's. He certainly had the shade of red hair.

Draco noted how nicely and warmly they were all dressed. He couldn't help it. He had grown up noticing such details. Their boots were thick, probably dragon hide, the insides of their coats were lined with fur. Potter's boys' even sported little golden buttons. He used to have coats like that.

He turned away, suddenly feeling ill. The crowded street seemed to press in on him, making him feel claustrophobic. He headed towards the joke shop, knowing twenty minutes weren't up, but with all intentions of dragging Scorpius out if he had to, and was relieved to find his son waiting outside on the steps.

He stood pressed against one wall, his pale face blank and expressionless. He was shivering slightly and Draco wished he had bought him a thicker jacket. The soles of his cheap boots were lined with snow and wet to the rim and his cheeks were flushed from the cold. He suddenly straightened when he saw Draco and gave him a bright smile, the gloominess that had washed over him all gone.

"Ready to go?" Draco asked as he held his hand out.

His smile faltered. "But-but we just got here! And I want to see the broom Father-you promised!"

That he had. "Alright, we'll see it, but aren't you hungry? You hardly had breakfast."

Scorpius shrugged. "No." He _was _hungry, but he wouldn't admit it. They could just eat when they got home. There was no use wasting their precious money in expensive places.

"How about a chocolate frog?" his father asked.

"Maybe one," he reluctantly agreed, unable to turn down such an offer. Scorpius so loved chocolate.

"Or two?" and Draco presented the little package with a smile, watching the happiness that glowed on his son's features.

"Oh, chocolate!" he cried, snatching the box and tearing happily through it. "I haven't had a chocolate frog in ages!"

He wasted no time in popping two in his mouth. "Dhan-kyoo, Fadher," he managed through a mouthful, grabbing his father's cold hand and lacing his small fingers though his long ones happily.

Draco let his son tug him through the crowds, hardly aware of eyes that watched them with unrestrained loathing and somewhat ill concealed disgust. He focused on Scorpius' chatter as he babbled about all the things he had seen in the joke shop and what he thought of one invention over another. He liked listening to his son talk.

Scorpius had the sort of voice that _calmed _people. It was both soft and urgent, exploding with emotions that his otherwise passive nature concealed. Draco had learned to distinguish his son's mood from the subtle tones of his voice. If he was angry, it was a low monotone. If he was restless or annoyed, it was almost whiny. If he was ill, it was soft and papery thin. If he was sad, it was all but gone. And if he was happy, it was loud and unrestrained.

And he was happy now, Draco could tell. When they neared _Quality Quidditch, _Draco pressed his son closer to him as they maneuvered through the thick crowd. So many had gathered to get a glimpse that Draco could barely see over the myriads of hats and hair, tall as he was.

"Father-ow!" Scorpius cried as a careless boy stepped on his foot and shoved him back. He was thrown against his father who steadied him and frowned at the thoughtless boy. "I can't see anything!"

"I told you it would be crowded, Scor. The broom just came out-"

"No! I want to see it today!" and he pushed away from his father, ignoring his cries for him to come back. Using his smallness to his advantage, Scorpius pried the long legs before him, pushing and shoving till he was able to shovel his way to the front.

He gasped when he saw the shiny broom. Immediately, he found himself pressed to the display glass as the boys behind him shoved and pushed, trying to make room.

"It's brilliant," he whispered and several voices around him agreed. The mahogany wood handle practically _gleamed. _The name was inscribed in gold, looping letter. It looked so light and the way the bristles of the broom bunched together in a perfect bunch made Scorpius' fingers itch to touch them. He wanted to ride this broom. _Oh what wouldn't I give to ride it just once!_

"Hey stop hogging the view!" A boy behind him cried, trying to shove him away.

"Stop pushing!" Scorpius cried back unsteadily clinging to the smooth pane.

"James I can't see!" another boy whined and the boy who had shoved him, James, suddenly grabbed Scorpius by the shoulders.

"Move it pipsqueak!" he snarled, throwing Scorpius back with such force that the little boy lost his balance, tripping over the many feet. The crowd parted like water behind him and Scorpius tumbled down the stone steps, landing hard on all fours.

"Ow…" he mumbled and winced as he got slowly to his feet. His knees were smarting and his palms were bleeding slightly where the skin had scraped the hard ground. Scorpius searched the crowd and spotted his father standing a few feet away, watching like a bystander, a shadow.

He limped towards his father, guilt washing over him as he neared and saw fear clouding his father's tired features.

"What happened? You're bleeding!" Draco cried, dropping to his feet and examining the cut on his knees. His pants were scraped and blood steadily soaked the cloth.

"I fell. There was too much pushing," Scorpius mumbled as his father took both his hands and gave them a once over.

"Well, nothing's broken," he sighed, pulling out his wand. After a quick cleaning spell, he closed the cuts and Scorpius watched with sudden fascination as the skin sealed itself together.

"Wow…Father, will I be able to do that?" he asked as Draco pocketed his wand.

"Of course. It's basic first-aid. You'll learn all about it in Charms."

"Then when will I get my wand?"

"Before you go to school-next year."

"I can't have it early?" He couldn't conceal his disappointment.

Draco chuckled. "No, not until you're eleven."

"Whoever thought of this stupid rule? They should let us have wands if we want-we're wizards aren't we?"

Draco didn't answer, lost in thought. Scorpius' eleventh birthday was coming up and then, his son would leave for Hogwarts. For the first time in ten years Draco would be apart from his son. The very idea made his heart ache.

"Father?" Scorpius shook his arm, bringing him out of his reverie.

"Hm?"

"Let's go home."

It had been a long day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Scorpius was an early riser. It was snowing lightly outside and he shivered, reluctant to leave the warm covers just yet. The house was quiet. He guessed his father had gone to work. He always left early and came back late at night. Scorpius remembered having to spend long days on end at the tavern with Maria. He liked the tavern lady, but he missed his father.

Sighing, Scorpius sidled out of the blankets and dashed into the bathroom. He wasted no time in stripping from his pajamas and standing under the hot shower. He sighed, smiling as his shivering stopped and the hot water washed away his sleep. Reaching for the soap, he began lathering himself, humming a tune he had heard a traveler at the tavern sing a few days ago.

For well over a half hour, he indulged himself-playing with the various bath potions and experimenting with the different colored bubbles. He never knew why his father had so many soaps and shampoos. There was even a little glamour bottle-stored on the highest shelf where Scorpius couldn't reach it.

"Keep away from children," Scorpius read aloud and then smiled, pleased with himself. His father had taught him to read and write early on so that by the time he was five, he could read mini-chaptered books that his father bought for his lessons effortlessly.

This morning, Scorpius had another reason to be happy. His birthday was in two days-which meant he got his wand today. Scorpius had hardly been able to sleep, thoughts of magic coursing through him. He dreamt of Hogwarts and magical dragons and Quidditch. He had spent the past week asking question after question about the new school and the students and the teachers. He knew he was harassing his poor father endlessly, but his father somehow always managed to rein his temper.

"Scorpius? Where are you hon'?" Maria's voice floated from downstairs and Scorpius scrambled out the tub.

"Up here!" he called, grabbing a towel and frantically drying himself. He could hear the tavern lady's footsteps upon the stairs and he practically slipped on the bath mat trying to pull up his pants. He didn't fancy her seeing him naked-which she had shamelessly done on occasion.

He knew he was like a son to her, but it had been all good and dandy when he was little. Scorpius was no crybaby now-he was soon to be eleven and a Hogwarts student to boot. He had to protect his pride and dignity.

"Scorpius?" the handle turned but the door remained locked. "Open the door, dearie, I've brough' lunch."

He stepped over his crumpled clothes and unlocked the door, grabbing his shirt and slipping it over himself as she entered.

Maria's eyes twinkled with amusement as she surveyed the chaos in the little bathroom, but did nothing to chastise the boy. She had heard all about his new sensitivities from his father.

"Alright now, go and eat the sandwiches on the table and mind you put the dishes in the sink!"

Scorpius brushed past her and tramped down, suddenly hungry while Maria whipped out her wand to reorganize the mess. He was munching through his second piece when she returned.

"Is Father coming early today?" he asked, licking his fingers noisily as Maria pulled a chair next to him.

"You know he always comes late in the evening. Why do you ask?"

"He promised he'd take me to Ollivander's. They close before six, don't they?"

"The wand maker's doors are never closed, love," she wisely replied, brushing stray strands back from his forehead. "And when your father comes home, I don't want you buggin' him. He'll take you when he can, you hear?"

Scorpius frowned, but nodded. He didn't like being reprimanded by anybody-unless it was his father, but his father hardly scolded him, although on retrospect, his father never failed to get him to do what he wanted.

Maria spelled the dishes clean once he was done.

"Now how abou' coming to the tavern? Draco left some new books for you."

Scorpius agreed eagerly and let her help him into his coat and boots. He followed Maria to his usual seat once inside the busy tavern: the bar stool closest to the large man behind the counter.

"Hello Bard," Scorpius greeted the tavern owner who gave him a smile that comically contrasted his masculine features.

"Tyke awaiting his parcel I give?"

"Father left books for me," he said importantly and took the stack Bard retrieved with a happy thanks.

Scorpius examined the covers one by one. His father hadn't brought him story books, like he had expected. He opened the cover of the first: _"A History of Magic" _and found a slim envelope nestled within.

Frowning slightly, he ran a finger over the parchment. His name was etched on the front in an elegant script: Mr. S. O. Black

Curious, he unsealed the wax seal and unfurled the official looking letter.

Dear Mr. Black,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
>Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.<p>

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

**Note: the above letter is no infringement on Rowling's writing. credit, as always, goes to her for characters and originality.**

Scorpius almost dropped the letter in surprise. Hogwarts! He was going to Hogwarts! He had always known of course, but having this letter seemed to make it all the more real. He felt himself smiling broadly and he wasted no time in sharing his excitement with the tavern owner and his wife.

They humored him, gasping at all the right places and congratulating with a pat on the back. Bard even handed him a tall tankard of pumpkin juice, toasting it to the start of adult hood. Scorpius couldn't stop grinning and chatting for the next half hour as he finished the tankard, talking animatedly to the wizards and witches who stopped by the bar for a drink. Some were too drunk to understand, others humored him good-naturedly. Still others stared at him with hard eyes, but kept silent for the sake of the threat that the tavern owner sent their way. Yes, this was Draco Malfoy's son, but he was a boy, not a Death Eater.

When Scorpius had at last finished his juice, Maria whisked him back to the kitchens with her, making him comfortable on a stack of flour sacks. He watched the others bustle in and out of the busy kitchen and talked with Lucy, Maria's daughter for a time, telling her all about what he wanted to do at Hogwarts, before Maria sent her daughter to her tasks.

Having exhausted his imagination for the time being, Scorpius returned to the pile of books, still marveling at the letter. He picked up the list that had come with it and realized his father had already bought him all the text books. Shifting through the covers, he picked up one with a purple shade, bordered with deep black letters: _Revised: Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger. _

With a slight smile, Scorpius cracked open the textbook and ran his hands over the smooth pages. He realized with a sudden guilty pang that all of his books were brand new. Now, Scorpius may be a lot of things, but one thing he definitely wasn't was stupid. He knew what a fortune school books cost-he had heard a boy complaining about them in the joke shop to his friend.

Turning the crisp pages with utmost care, Scorpius found the first page and lost himself in the dark subject. He had always been fascinated by potions. His father liked to brew his own stocks and Scorpius never lost the opportunity to observe him. He was allowed to help sometimes, fetching curious bottles or taking apart leaves from their stems. He had even been allowed to cut frog's tongues once-with his father's supervision of course. His father had emphasized what a dangerous subject potion brewing was and he had warned Scorpius not to go around his cauldron or stores if he wasn't around.

He wondered what sort of potions they would be taught at Hogwarts-certainly not the dangerous ones. He turned the pages absentmindedly-skipping all the recipes and skimming the background information. This book wasn't _nearly _as interesting as the ones that lined their shelf back home. His father lacked a lot of things, but he certainly made up for it with his impressive library. He was constantly adding to it. The large collection of books was partly the reason why Scorpius was never bored and also why he knew things a boy his age shouldn't.

His father of course, knew that Scorpius pried though his collection, but he didn't reprimand him, although he never encouraged him either. There were dark things in some of those books-pictures that sometimes gave Scorpius nightmares. His father had locked the more vicious books in a trunk up on the tallest shelf, but Scorpius was free to peruse the rest.

He learned many things just from scanning the thick volumes. He knew about a lot more plants than the average apothecary, for one. He had memorized simple spells that he thought would be fun to try once he got his wand. His father, who learned quickly about Scorpius' insatiable curiosity, sometimes highlighted pages from the more harmless volumes, leaving them for his son to learn and ponder on his own.

Last year, when Scorpius turned nine, his father bought him a miniature cauldron and taught him the easy brews that were harmless enough in the case of errors. Scorpius had enjoyed the countless nights and sometimes even weekends he had spent brewing beside his father. He had learned more about his father in those few moments than all the years put together.

His father never talked much, but he was a good listener and he always seemed to know what to say. Scorpius couldn't remember a single time when his father hadn't been around to comfort him when he needed him. He remembered how, when he was six and ill with dragon pox, his father had held him in his arms all night, whispering soothing words, telling him stories to distract him from the itchy healing salves, and looking after his needs before his own. He didn't even know if his father ate through those awful nights.

Maria was constantly telling him not to bother his father with unnecessary things like toys and carnivals and Quidditch matches. Scorpius had bothered him nevertheless, but he had been too young to understand then. He knew now that they were too poor to afford those luxuries and if he begged for them, his father would give whatever he could to make him happy.

That love-that understanding, was all that Scorpius wanted. He wasn't a selfish boy. There were of course, things he _would _like to have, but it was ok. As long as he had his father, he assumed he was ok.

He knew his father loved him more than any amount of gold after all, and what child ever refused such promises of love from a parent?

* * *

><p>Harry and Seamus stared bemusedly at the ghost town of an Alley. Aside from a tavern, stable, and a few shops, it looked all but deserted. Oh there were small little cottages here and there, but they were so shabby that it was hard to believe people lived in them-much less the person they had come to see.<p>

"Are you sure you want to see him, Harry?" Seamus asked over his toothpaste moustache. "We could get someone else to answer our questions."

But Harry shook his head. "No, it has to be him. He's no fool, Seamus. I know that even after all these years, he hasn't forgotten a single name."

"He's a git, Harry! He's as likely to throw us out than talk to us."

He was sounding like Ron. "He may be a git, but Malfoy's not stupid. I hate to tell you, but he had better grades than either of us."

"That doesn't prove anything," Seamus muttered, but followed his companion to the address they had been given.

The house they came upon was as shabby as the rest, but even so, there was sense of order to it. The lawn, covered in a light blanket of snow, was well kept. The driveway was clean and there were little flower pots full of strange plants and herbs hanging from the window sills.

The men paid little attention to details as they approached and knocked on the door. For all of five minutes, no one answered, and Harry was wondering whether Malfoy had bolted, when the door creaked open and out peered a blonde head.

"Can I help you?" asked the pale little boy, his blue eyes surveying them questioningly.

Harry gaped at Malfoy Jr., startled by the large sapphire eyes and resemblance to his older counterpart. It was Seamus who answered.

"Yeah, we have business with Draco Malfoy. Call him out, won't you?"

"Father's at work," he replied, "but he'll be here soon. Do you want to come in?"

The men exchanged glances and it was Seamus again who answered, "Don't mind if we do."

And they stepped in after the little boy, shocked at his politeness. Is this really Malfoy's son? Harry thought, and is this really Malfoy's house?

Humble, neat, and-dare he think it-tastefully decorated, it was a far cry from Malfoy Manor. Harry and Seamus sat down in the sofa Malfoy's son directed them to. It was shabby furniture, probably bought second hand and repaired several times, but Harry hated to admit that it was surprisingly comfortable.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" their little host asked and this time, Harry couldn't resist affording him a smile as Seamus' jaw dropped.

"No thank you," Harry replied, thinking how comical it would be for Malfoy to come in on a scene of his son serving them food. "Why don't you sit down?"

He climbed into the armchair across from them and sat dangling his legs. Harry thought he was short was his age and quite skinny, although not in a bad way. His appearance was immaculate, probably his father's schooling, although his white blonde hair, paler than Draco's but just as striking was loose and not gelled back.

Now that Harry had time to examine him, he noticed he had Malfoy's pointy chin and regal nose, but his face was softer, not so sharp as his father's, and there was a certain childlike innocence in his sapphire blue eyes. Harry saw them studying him as intently as he was studying him and he found a certain fascination that a boy so young was so patient. His own boys never minded the guests.

"You're Aurors aren't you?" he asked after a time in a soft voice both calm and strong.

"How did you know?" Harry asked, unable to hide his surprise.

The boy flashed him a brief smile. "Father told me about them once. He wanted to be an Auror, but he never got the chance. He told me they wear ink black robes and like to stare a lot."

Seamus cleared his throat. "You're father sure talks a lot," he dryly remarked.

The boy cocked his head, his blonde hair tickling his shoulder just so. "He doesn't tell me much about his past. Father says he'd just like to forget it-"

Seamus snorted and Harry shot him a quick warning look. He didn't want to disillusion the boy if he could help it. Malfoy had little enough as it seemed.

"You're father is right," Harry put in, "We should all forget the past and look towards the future. The present is what counts."

The boy nodded solemnly. "That's what he always says."

They fell silent again and Harry studied the moving frames on the mantle wall, above the hearth. They were all pictures of a vivacious young boy with soft blonde hair and a smile that seemed to light his features. There was one when he was probably about four, riding a toy broom. Another, a bit older, reading under a tree. One where he was fast asleep when he was a toddler, cuddling a stuffed dragon. And another behind a birthday cake with seven candles. He was smiling sweetly in all, but Harry was captivated by the last one that looked recent: of a thin, blonde man hugging his son. If Harry didn't know that this was Draco Malfoy, he would never have believed that his ex-nemesis could smile so softly and look so _kind. _

"Father's here!" the boy suddenly cried, jumping off the couch and running to the door as the handle turned. "Father!"

Harry and Seamus both stood as a tall man stepped inside and watched him ruffle his son's hair affectionately greeting him. Harry noticed he had grown thinner over the years, and his long limbs, though still moving with timeless grace, looked a bit lanky. His hair too had thinned, but there was plenty left to curl about his pale neck and flop into his eyes. Harry thought he looked worn.

"Father, we have guests," the boy informed and it was only then that Malfoy's startled gaze met theirs, and the smile faded off his lips.

"Scorpius," he softly said, "Go wait at the tavern. Tell Maria I'll swing by to get you."

Scorpius ran out the door obediently, leaving them in privacy.

"What brings you here, Potter?" Draco asked, removing his coat as he stepped into the living room. He didn't bother greeting Finnegan. He could see how he would be welcomed in the Irishman's enraged eyes.

"We-uh-wanted to ask you some questions."

Draco paused, his heart hammering. "I doubt I'd be of any help. I'm not keeping up with the underworld these days."

Seamus rolled his eyes. "Stop being so dramatic. You know these people from the past."

Draco's lips thinned, but he didn't retort, instead demanding Harry to explain with his eyes.

"We need you to identify a body that was found in the river two days ago. It's at least a couple weeks old, but we think it belongs to a death eater who escaped the initial ministry arrests. Think you can help?"

"Why come to me?"

Harry sighed. "Frankly, because I couldn't think of anyone else whose memory hasn't failed him. Besides, you're one of the few ones who escaped an Azkaban sentence."

When Malfoy remained silent, Harry added, "We need your help. We'll pay you for your time-"

"No need," Draco firmly cut in. The last thing he wanted was charity from bloody Potter. "I won't make any promises, but I'll see the body. When should I come to the office?"

"_No need_," Seamus imitated, "It's outside."

Malfoy's grey eyes grew wide. "Outside? What were you thinking bringing it here?" he cried.

"Calm down, Malfoy. It's standard procedure."

"Standard procedure my arse! What if Scorpius saw it? I don't want my son to see dead bodies in our front yard!"

"Hey, we're sorry alright?" Harry cut in, deeply amused by his rage, but trying hard not to show it. "Just take a peek at it and we'll be on our way."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but stomped out. When the Aurors emerged, they found Malfoy staring glumly at the head sticking out the body bag. The witch's lifeless eyes dripped with dry blood.

"That's Melissa Yardley," Malfoy said in a strangely subdued voice.

"Victor Yardley's wife?"

He nodded and Harry sighed in relief, leaning down to cover the head. "Thanks, Malfoy. We'll be on our way."

Malfoy watched them levitate the corpse but just before they apparated, he added, "Potter, you should know, she wasn't a death eater."

And Harry looked into his grey eyes, seeming a thousand years too old for his age, and answered, "I know," before apparating in a flurry of snow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"I saw Malfoy today," Harry informed his wife as they lay in bed together, their arms around each other.

"Was it an unpleasant encounter?" Ginny asked as she played with Harry's long fingers.

He sighed. "No, surprisingly. He was very civil-or I should say his son was. Do you know he's Albus' age? I bet they'll be going to Hogwarts together."

"Like old times?"

He laughed. "Maybe…Although I hope not."

She turned her head to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want them to be like Malfoy and I, I mean…the man's really not that bad if you ignore his past."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Harry, what's all this about? One meeting and you're ready to forgive him just like that?"

"Hey I saved him from Azkaban, remember? I've forgiven him a long time ago…It's just, his son…He was so different you know?"

She smiled. "Was he? What's his name?"

"Scorpius-"

Ginny laughed. "Just like him to name his son something menacing. And his wife?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't see anyone else. The boy was alone when Malfoy went to work."

"Maybe she was out shopping or something, that's just like someone he would marry."

Harry smiled. "Maybe, but he really looked alone-the boy I mean. He looks just like Malfoy you know? The same hair, the same mannerisms-but it seems he knows nothing about his father's past."

"So he's lying to the child?"

"No, not lying. I think, it's his way of protecting him."

"That's twisted logic, but if you say so-now enough talk about Malfoy. Can we do something interesting?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "_Interesting?"_

She smiled mischievously and climbed on her knees so that she was looking down on him, her hair curtaining them both.

"Yes, Mr. Potter," she whispered, tickling his cheek, "_Interesting..."_

* * *

><p>"Father, those aurors who came yesterday-you knew them, didn't you?"<p>

Draco almost dropped the coffee pot. He turned around to glare at his son, who was oblivious to his annoyance and chewing his jam toast as he flipped through a textbook. The question was innocent enough. Knowing Scorpius, Draco had been expecting it to crop up sooner or later. He just didn't think his son would make the connection so fast.

"Yes, from school. Why do you ask? Did they say anything?"

"Nope, but Mr. Finnegan didn't seem to like you much."

Draco snorted. "Mr. Finnegan doesn't like a lot of people. Finish your breakfast and head over to Marie's. I'm going to be late home from work today."

Scorpius glanced at his father's tense back, knowing he had said something to annoy him yet again. His father had been in a bad mood ever since the aurors left. He wondered what they wanted from him.

They never had visitors. Scorpius didn't even have playmates his age. It didn't really bother him, since he had always played alone for as long as he could remember, but he hadn't thought that perhaps his father did have other friends. And what if these friends had kids his age?

He finished his breakfast in silence and then followed his father out.

* * *

><p>Draco locked the door, dropped his son at Marie's tavern, and headed straight to work.<p>

He was in a bad mood. After avoiding his past for more than ten years, to have Potter suddenly show up on his doorstep had given way to old memories and nightmares. Needless to say, he hadn't slept well.

By the time he reached his little shop, he had a nagging headache on his right temple. Massaging it irritatingly, he grabbed the nearest pain potion and downed the whole vile, sighing when the throbbing subsided.

Since falling out of favor in the wizarding world, Draco had retreated to the backdrop. With what little money he saved up in the first two year of doing odd jobs, he managed to set up an apothecary in the dingy back alleys of Diagon Alley where, over the years, he had gathered a steady stream of regulars. They came to him knowing his past, his blackened name, but also his capability in potions.

Draco had always excelled that particular subject at Hogwarts. Not because of his head of house, but because he genuinely enjoyed and respected the complex art. He had a knack for memorizing lengthy names and formulas which made potion brewing and improvising a piece of cake. Herbology was his other love.

The Alkimini Apothecary was wedged between a corner shoe store and a butcher's shop. It was a dark little store, with curious plants in every corner, bubbling cauldrons, numerous tidbits hanging from the wooden ceiling, and little vials of colorful, rare potions tucked on tall shelves.

Whenever he entered his shop, Draco felt at peace in this potion world. He had no assistants. Whatever ingredients he needed, he either shopped for in Knockturn Alley or grew in the little plot of land behind his shop.

He never brought his son here, for fear that someone would attack him. Even after all these years, Draco still lived under threat and suspicion. He still received the occasional threats by post or crucified on his shop windows.

There was no helping it, and he knew that he would pay for his deeds perhaps for the rest of his life, but he tried his best to spare Scorpius the grief.

His little boy lived in his own innocent world and Draco was desperate to retain that innocence for as long as possible. Some things however, are always inevitable. He knew he couldn't keep Scorpius in the dark forever, so after Potter's unceremonious visit, he had finally settled down to tell Scorpius some truths.

His son had listened quietly, without interruption, and hadn't asked anything after even when Draco showed the horrible mark, still as dreadfully clear. In his own peculiar way, Scorpius had accepted his family's dark past and moved on.

Draco knew there was something more. He knew all the anger and frustration was simply building up inside his son, waiting for the right moment to claw him for his sins, but he only hoped that when the time came, he would be forgiven.

It was a lot to ask. Draco didn't deserve the forgiveness of an innocent child, but what could he do? The war had swallowed him and preyed upon his ignorance-his parents had made him a scapegoat. There had been no escape.

He sighed and shook his head. Being alone always forced guilty memories. Thinking he might as well lose himself in his work, he went to the counter in the back and opened a drawer where he kept a piece of parchment with a list of things to do.

He set about restalking the potions, brewing some and refilling others. Whenever the little bell atop the door jingled, he paused to acknowledge the visitor before going back to work. He never talked to anyone and they never initiated any conversation. He simply gave them what they wanted, took their money over the counter, and saw them on their way.

Sometimes , like today, he would stay after his shop closed and brew a rare potion requested by some anonymous customer. He was working on a particularly tricky one and it was half-past seven already. The sky was dark, there was no moon out.

Most of the shops had already closed and the shoppers long gone to their warm homes. Draco worked alone in a back room. There were small piles of ingredients chopped to fine pieces, or shredded, of skinned on a clean wooden table. A pewter cauldron hung from the ceiling and beneath it roared a steady fire.

On the right side was a mounted bookshelf overstuffed with dusty, old books. Every so often, Draco would scrape back the tall stool he had perched on and consult some book before frowning and returning to the potion.

Sometimes he would cross something out with a eagle quill or mutter curses and toss the book harshly back in it place. He was bent over a rather large volume violently crossing out paragraphs when a knock outside distracted him.

He paused, suddenly nervous, and waited. When the knocking persisted, Draco drew his wand and slowly made his way to the front door. He opened the door a crack and peered out.

"Malfoy?"

The pompous voice, the disheveled look made Draco sigh in both relief and annoyance as he unlatched the door and swung it open.

"The shop's closed Potter," he said, but the man simply held up a hand and ushered him inside.

Draco stepped out of his way as Potter entered the shop uninvited and closed the door.

"How are you Malfoy?" he asked, surveying the store with vague amusement in his hazel eyes.

"Too busy for idle chatter," he replied, "State your business and leave."

"Is this how you treat all your customers?"

"You're not my customer and like I said, the shop's closed-"

"Which is why I came now." He watched him till curiosity leaked through Draco's annoyed façade before replying, "I believe you have a potion for me."

Draco quickly concealed his surprise with a scowl. "So that was you?"

Potter nodded and bent down to examine miniature skulls floating in a jar of green liquid.

"How soon can you give it to me?"

"How soon do you need it?"  
>Potter thought for a moment. He tapped the jar with a coarse finger, making the skulls jiggle, before turning his gaze to Draco.<p>

"How long will it take you to brew it?"

Draco didn't reply at once. He studied Potter, taking in the Auror robes and high boots and messy hair. He had tanned considerably since their school days and there were dark circles under his eyes. He seemed so much older.

Draco sighed, giving in. "I'm working on it now and I won't lie, it's rather tricky."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, that's why I knew I couldn't brew it myself."

"Why do you need it?"

"_That_ is none of your business."

His voice wasn't curt, only frank, but Draco couldn't conceal his frown. "I guess this has something to do with your work?"

"Something like that."

They stared at each other for a moment, each man sizing the other up, noting how well life had treated both, how much life had aged them, how much they had changed…Draco finally turned away and made his way to the back room. Potter followed, as he knew he would.

"Why did you come to me?" Draco asked as he stirred the bubbling liquid before reaching for the open book.

Potter shrugged. "A source gave me a tip to your shop. He told me you dealt with rare potions and were capable. I thought it wouldn't hurt to try."

"You knew it was me?"

"I never go anywhere without a background check."

Draco nodded once before picking up his quill and resuming the scratch work. Potter watched him. The room drowned in silence.

* * *

><p>Scorpius frowned as he stared out the window in the ensuing darkness. All the alleys were deserted. Everyone was happily celebrating Christmas at home, but Scorpius was still stuck at the now closed tavern with Marie and nothing the poor woman did soothed his anger.<p>

"He's late!" he spat out for the tenth time.

"Come now dear, I'm sure he has a good reason."

But Scorpius simply scowled and shook his head. Today was his birthday, for Merlin's sake! His father could surely have made an exception? They had planned a visit to the wand maker's, but he had probably gone home long ago.

Scorpius clenched his fists and stared sullenly outside, wondering how he would punish his father when he returned. The grandfather clock on the wall ticked. Bard, Marie's husband, went to the apothecary to check but returned shaking his head.

"It's closed," he said, "and no one responded when I knocked."

Scorpius' anger turned to worry when the clock chimed eleven and still his father didn't return. Marie tried to coax Scorpius to bed, but he stubbornly refused. They worried in silence, till a knock on the tavern door startled them from their thoughts.

Bard answered it and Scorpius inched closer. He recognized the man's voice and peeked from around Bard's waist. It was the same man who had come to their house the other day.

"Mr. Potter," he whispered as Bard stepped aside to let him through.

"Where's my father?" he asked, feeling suddenly small in front of the tall man. He wasn't anywhere nearly as tall as his father, but his long robes made him seem so.

Harry Potter squatted in front of Scorpius and looked gravely into his blue eyes.

"You're father is at St. Mungo's Scorpius," he said and Scorpius didn't know what to think anymore. Harry watched the shock and fear pass over the boy's face.

"He's fine though. He can come home tomorrow."

But it didn't ease Scorpius' worry.

"What happened?" Bard asked.

Harry cast another glance at Scorpius before answering, "He had a potions accident. The cauldron tipped-"

Marie gasped, hand over her mouth. "How bad is he?" she cired, but Harry raised a hand to calm her. He didn't want to needlessly startle the boy.

"Like I said, he's well enough to come home tomorrow-"

"I want to see him," Scorpius cut in, his eyes fixed on Harry.

Harry wanted to deny him, but he read the silent plea in his blue eyes. "Alright, I'll take you."

"Wait!" Marie bustled over from behind the counter and handed Harry a bag. "Give this to 'im."

Harry nodded and took their leave, Scorpius hurrying to keep up with his fast strides.

* * *

><p>They flooed to St. Mungo's because Harry wasn't sure whether the boy was used to Apparating or not.<p>

"Stay close," he said, but Scorpius was already clutching his sleeve tightly.

They took the elevator to the sixth floor, Accidental Potions, and Harry led his young charge down the sterile corridor. Scorpius' head turned this way and that as he took in the activity in each room they passed. It seemed his anxiety did nothing to hinder his curiosity.

Harry recalled his own trip to the hospital with Albus in tow. It was a few years ago when James broke his arm. Albus had buried his face in Harry's shoulder and refused to look up till James' voice forced him from Harry's arms.

Scorpius on the other hand, seemed to take in everything that was happening. He listened to the moans and murmurs and soft chatter that followed them through ajar doors. He watched a man being pushed away in a wheelchair, groaning in pain. He obediently moved aside to let pass white-robed Healers and pink-dressed nurses who were pushing carts full of vials and funny instruments.

Harry was surprised at his calm demeanor. He seemed so solemn for a mere boy of eleven. They stopped at a door halfway down the corridor and Harry slowly opened it. Scorpius looked at him a little uncertainly, but Harry urged him on. He followed and closed the door.

The room was cast in a dim yellow light that made everything hazy. Scorpius tip-toed by Malfoy's bed, who seemed to be asleep. Harry supposed they had sedated him for the pain. He wasn't wearing a shirt and the thin blanket halfway up his chest revealed the long bandages tied round his shoulder and ribs.

There were more coiled thickly around his left hand all the way to his elbow. The smell of aloe and antiseptic hung in the air. Scorpius perched near his father's waist and took his uninjured hand in both his, resting them in his lap.

"He'll be a-alright, won't he?" the boy whispered in a tremulous voice. In a moment his shoulders shook as he quietly began to sob.

Feeling immensely guilty, Harry stood by the bed and drew Scorpius' head to his waist. He patted his back and shoulders saying, "Sh-sh, he'll be ok."

Years of experience had taught him how to calm a distraught child. "He only had a small accident. We got him cleaned up really fast so there's no need to worry. Give him a couple days and I promise he'll be as good as new."

Scorpius calmed with this reassurance and leaned away, hastily wiping his eyes.

"Can I sleep here?" he asked, looking up with red-rimmed eyes.

Harry wanted to simply go home and eat, but for some he found he couldn't deny the boy anything.

"Alright, but I'll be staying here too."

"Thank-you," Scorpius murmured.

Harry deposited the bag on the night stand before retreating to a chair in the corner. He watched as Scorpius leaned over and removed his shoes, carefully setting them down. With both hands, he moved Malfoy's long arm before cuddling up by his side. Like a blanket, he pulled his father's arm around him, so that his tiny body lay wedged inbetween.

In a few minutes, his childish breaths floated through the room. Not for the first time, Harry wondered how Malfoy, of all people, had managed to raise such a fine boy.

* * *

><p>Knowing it was going to be a long night, Harry headed to the front desk to make a floo all home. Ginny's reaction was as he had predicted.<p>

"The hospital? Harry, is everything alright? Are _you _alright?"

"I'm fine, Ginny. I went down to get a potion from Malfoy and he had an accident."

"You went there this late for a potion? But why aren't you coming home?"

"His son's here Gin. I can't just leave him."

"Doesn't he have anywhere else to stay?"

Harry sighed. "He fell asleep in Malfoy's bed-said he doesn't want to leave him."

Ginny scoffed, but then she too gave in. She couldn't win against a child. "So you're staying?"

"I'll come as soon as I can."

"Have you eaten?"

"I'll have a sandwich." Harry knew it was pointless to lie to his wife.

"Alright then. I'm taking the kids to Diagon Alley for school shopping in the morning. I'll leave a lunch out for you incase you decided to stay home."

"Thanks love and I'm sorry."

"No, Harry, you haven't done anything wrong. Just make sure you get some sleep."

"I will."

"Good night, love."

"'Night."

On the first floor, Harry bought a sandwich from the café and finished it before reclining on the hard bench outside Malfoy's room. He closed his eyes and somehow fell in a fitful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
><strong>

Draco came too to shooting pains in his ribs. Breathing hurt. He cracked open his eyes and the ceiling swam into view. His bandaged arm felt heavy by his side. He made to shift his other hand and found it pinned to the bed.

He moved startled eyes to the warm bundle snuggled by his side. Scorpius' blonde hair spilled out from under the dark cloak he was wrapped in. Auror robes, Draco realized and raised his eyes to the man sitting silently in the corner chair, watching them.

"He insisted," Potter said as Draco carefully freed his arm from his son's clutches.

"Thank-you for watching over him," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I hope he wasn't too much trouble."

Harry softly laughed. "Honestly Malfoy, he's so well-behaved I have trouble believing he's your son."

Draco gave him a weak smile and made to sit up, wincing when the movement jostled his side.

"Do you need the Healer?" Potter asked, concerned.

"No," Draco breathed, closing his eyes till the pain subsided. He looked down at his son and his grey eyes unconsciously softened. Carefully, so as not to wake him, he carded long fingers through the white-blonde locks, caressing the fine strands lovingly.

"You can leave if you want, Potter, " he said without looking up, but Potter simply replied, "I can wait."

Draco met his hazel eyes, but said nothing. Potter eventually left to get coffee and returned with two cups, handing one to Draco without ceremony.

"Thanks," Draco murmured, surprised at his kindness. They drank in silence.

* * *

><p>Harry crossed over to the window and peeked through the curtain, sipping his coffee thoughtfully. He was halfway done when a soft moan caught his attention. He turned around to see Scorpius squirming in bed. He burrowed further under the cloak, throwing his bony legs over his father's.<p>

"Scor," Draco smiled, poking him lightly in the ribs.

Scorpius groaned and swatted his hands away, mumbling something incoherent.

"Scor, wake up love. You can't sleep in the hospital."

Scorpius flopped onto his back and opened his eyes. He blinked several times and yawned before fixing bleary eyes on Draco's face. When he realized who was leaning over him, he scrambled to his knees, wide-eyed.

"Father!" he cried and threw his arms around Draco's neck. Draco laughed and held his skinny frame close. "You're alright."

"Of course I'm ok," Draco replied, kissing the top of his head. "I'll never leave you if I can help it."

"You better not," his son growled before drawing back. He lightly fingered Draco's bandages. "We were supposed to get my wand yesterday."

Draco looked at him apologetically, but before he could say anything, Harry cut in, "I'll take you today if you'd like," and then explained, "My kids still need to get their school supplies."

"Potter, you've done more than enough-"

"It won't be any trouble and besides, you're in no condition to take him anywhere Malfoy."

Draco knew he was right and Scorpius would need his things eventually.

"Alright," he sighed, "Remember to take your school list, Scor." He couldn't believe his boy was leaving him in two days.

* * *

><p>Despite Draco's protests, Harry accompanied him to Bewitch Alley via the hospital's omnibus as he wasn't well enough to travel by floo or apparate. Scorpius unabashedly held his father's hand, helping him up the stairs and into the house. Harry followed.<p>

Draco dropped into the nearest chair, utterly exhausted, while Scorpius disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water unasked. Draco took it gratefully.

"Do you want anything, Mr. Potter?" Scorpius asked, turning his large eyes on him.

Harry couldn't help but smile and shook his head. "Just call me Harry."

"Scorpius, can you make something to eat? You both must be hungry."

"No, Malfoy, really-" Harry began, but Scorpius cut in,

"It's no trouble. I'm always making things for father anyways." And before Harry could protest further, he bounded back into the kitchen with the empty glass.

"How in the world did you train him so well?" Harry asked.

Draco chuckled, looking worse for the wear. "I didn't have to. He's a bright boy and very kind."

"That he is," Harry remarked, but he was looking right at his nemesis.

Draco, who felt the weight of his stare, waved his hand. "Have a seat, Potter. He won't let you go till you've had your fill. I can tell he's taken by you."

"He knows about me?" Harry asked, taking the seat from across his host.

"Not everything. I've told him some about his past. He'll need to know before he goes to Hogwarts. He knows who you are-"

"And about the war?"

Draco sighed, but nodded. "I told him my part-our family's part. Like I said, Scorpius is a bright boy. He would have learned eventually. I thought it better he finds out from me than some unpleasant source."

Harry could tell that it had pained Draco to reveal his dark past, but-

"That was a wise move," he admitted, then asked after an awkward pause, "Do you-do you two live alone?"

Draco didn't reply at once, studying his expression as though unsure whether to trust Harry or not, but he gave in. "Yes…My wife and I are divorced."

"Oh. I'm sorry-"

"Don't be."

Harry noted his bitterness and fell silent once more. They were spared further conversation when Scorpius returned, carrying a tray of sandwiches and tea things.

"You cooked up a feast," Harry remarked as he set the tray on the coffee table and began to pour tea.

"Scor's sandwiches are the best, aren't they?" Draco smiled, playfully poking his son's side.

Scorpius squirmed, stifling a laugh before handing Harry his tea. "Father's only saying that because that's all I can make," he solemnly replied, adding sugar to another cup and handing it to his father.

"That's more than all of my kid's put together," Harry said, "I think I'd like to keep your son around Malfoy. He'll be a good influence on my wild pack."

Draco laughed calmly, so as not to jostle his ribs, and saw his son perk up at the mention of Harry's kids.

"Are they my age?" he asked, grabbing a sandwich for himself before perching on the arm of Draco's chair.

"Mm…just about," Harry replied, biting into a warm sandwich, "Albus, my middle son, is your exact age. He'll be going to Hogwarts this year just like you."

Now he had caught the boy's full attention. "Albus," Scorpius pronounced as though tasting the name on his tongue, "What's he like?"

Harry shrugged, puzzled by his question and glanced at Draco who was listening to the conversation thoroughly amused. "He's like…any other boy, I suppose-"

"No, no! What does he _like to do?_"

"Oh, well he likes to read a lot-"

"And?"

"And…he likes to watch Quidditch."

"He doesn't play it?" asked Scorpius, disappointed.

"He doesn't, but my son James does."

"James," Scorpius repeated again. "But he must be older?"

Harry nodded. "He'll be fourteen this year."

"And your third son?"

Harry laughed. "I only have two. My third is a daughter, Lily, and she's two years younger than you."

"Wow," Scorpius breathed, fingering his half-eaten sandwich. "You have so many kids. It must be fun…"

He fell into a thoughtful silence and Draco affectionately ruffled his hair. "There aren't any kids his age around here," he explained. "He's never really spent time with any."

"Well I'm sure my kids will love meeting you," Harry warmly told the little boy and was rewarded with a heart-warming smile.

* * *

><p>After their brunch, Scorpius ran upstairs to change and Draco carried the dishes to the kitchen, where he set the sponge to clean with a flick of his uninjured wrist. Harry was waiting by the door when he returned.<p>

"Potter," he began, "Thank you."

And his tone was so sincere, that Harry couldn't help but look at him questioningly.

"You have no idea how much you've done for Scorpius-for me," he calmly explained, "Inviting him like this-"

"Malfoy," Harry softly cut in, "He's not a bad kid and everyone is blind to judge him so."

Draco smiled sadly. "You have no idea how much I regret…" He suddenly closed his eyes tight and looked away, overwhelmed.

Harry let him compose himself. "You've changed," he murmured and Draco laughed shortly.

"It's been ten years, Potter," he weakly replied. "What did you expect?"

"No, I mean… I guess you're right. People do change over time. I've changed too, haven't I?"

"Yes, you've got wrinkles." He smirked at him and Harry smiled back, both conveying a certain warmth in their eyes.

"I'm ready!" Scorpius cried as he flew down the stairs. He had changed into pressed trousers and a grey sweater, a woolen scarf dangling around his neck.

"Have you your list?" Draco asked as he took down a blue jacket from a hook behind the door and handed it to his son.

"Yes," Scorpius replied, slipping into the jacket.

"And the pouch?"

Scorpius patted his pant pocket and smiled sweetly at his father. "I can go?"

"Yes, but you must behave."

Harry rolled his eyes. "If he behaves any more, Malfoy, we'll be christening him on Christmas."

Draco laughed as Scorpius unlocked the door and jumped onto the porch. Harry followed him out, coat in hand. Scorpius waved to his father, who waved back, smiling till they disappeared round the corner.

**5**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Harry flooed to Diagon Alley with Scorpius.

"We'll find the others and then go from there, alright?" Harry asked as Scorpius let Harry hold his hand. They meandered through the crowd, Harry greeting some who stopped to say hello, until they finally spotted two women mingling outside Flourish and Blotts.

"Harry!" a tall women with bushy, brown hair greeted them with a brilliant smile.

"Hermione," he smiled back, leaning in for a hug. He kissed another women with long red hair on the lips next, before turning to Scorpius once again.

"Let me introduce Scorpius Black," he said. "Scorpius, this is my wife Ginny and best friend Hermione."

"Hello," he shyly replied, looking quite small as he stared up at them.

"Well, aren't you polite!" Hermione cried, leaning down to ruffle his hair. "And you look exactly like Malfoy!"

"That's his son," Harry replied, amused at her shocked expression.

"Father told me about you," Scorpius said, feeling a bit brave, "He said you were the brightest witch in his year."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Did he now?"

"He told you about us-about…Hogwarts?" Ginny asked, really wanting to know whether Malfoy had told his son about the war, but a look from Harry hinted it was a delicate subject.

Scorpius however, caught on nevertheless. "He told me about all of you," he replied. "And the war…Father said you and your family helped defeat Voldemort."

She blinked, surprised that he knew so much and exchanged a glance with Harry, who felt just as strange hearing the name of the dark wizard roll off this innocent boy's tongue.

"How about I introduce you to the kids?" he lightly asked, "Where are they anyways?"

"Well, let's see: Lily, Hugo, Albus, and Rose are in Flourish and Blotts, while James and Teddy wandered down to the Apothecary, but I doubt you'll find them there," Hermione replied.

"As long as they stay off Knockturn Alley," Harry said, steering Scorpius inside the shop while the women returned to their conversation.

* * *

><p>Scorpius followed Harry deeper into the shop while he searched for the kids. He was excited to meet them, although he was careful not to show it. When shouts of "Dad!" rang out, his breath caught with anticipation.<p>

"Shopped enough?" Harry asked as a young girl with long reddish hair Scorpius guessed was Lily ran into her father's arms.

"I want to go to Hogwarts," she whined, "It's not fair that I'm the only one-"

"You're not," cut in another girl, taller and with startling auburn hair. "Hugo's still here-" and she tugged at a small boy's arm who was busy eating a large lollipop as she spoke.

"Who's that?" came another voice and Scorpius turned to see a boy about his age strutting towards them, his hair black and messy like his father's.

Harry set Lily down before touching Scorpius' shoulder with a smile. "This is Scorpius Black," he replied, "Scorpius, this is Albus, Rose, Lily, and Hugo."

"We're all cousins," Rose pointed out while Scorpius smiled shyly at them.

"You'll be going to Hogwarts I take?" Albus asked.

Scorpius nodded. Harry, seeing that the kids were getting along, took Lily outside as she was getting restless.

"Have you got all your supplies?" Rose asked.

"No," he said and pulled out his folded list from his jacket pocket.

"Oh, well we're done here, but I can show you where everything is," Albus offered and for the next fifteen minutes, the three went round the shop getting Scorpius' new things. He was careful however about how much he spent. He knew his father wouldn't want him to compromise when it came to school, but Scorpius still bought much of the equipment second-hand. If the others noticed, they thankfully didn't tease him.

Satisfied with his purchase, he grabbed the heavy bag and joined the others who were waiting for him outside.

"Got everything?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Scorpius replied, glancing at the tall man behind her who was talking with Harry, frowning his way once in a while.

Hermione followed his gaze. "Oh that's my husband, Ron. He and your father never really got along, but it was just petty fights."

Scorpius gave her a look that she couldn't place. "Father had a lot of enemies, didn't he? Not many people seem to like him."

He said it with the seriousness of a child, but Hermione knew how much a child's words weighed.

"He only did what he had to to survive," she replied. "No one here blames him."

Scorpius seemed to scrutinize her before nodding shortly. "I know. Harry said as much when he talked to Father."

"Let's go to Malkins next. I need new robes," Rose said, but was drowned out next second.

"No! I want ice cream-daddy you said I could have some!"

"I need my wand! When can I get my wand?"

"Woah! Hold your horses!" Harry cried. "I think it's time we split up."

Ginny nodded. "Right, girls with me and Hermione, and boys with the other boys."

"We'll meet up at Florean's" Ron said as he picked up Hugo who was still busy finishing his lollipop.

"Might as well go to the wand shop. Scorpius needs one too," Harry said and the group moved down the Alley.

"You're eleven aren't you?" Albus asked as they followed the two men.

Scorpius nodded. "Why?"

He shrugged, fixing him with brilliant green eyes. "You're small for a boy. I think even Rose is taller than you."

Scorpius felt the urge to pout, but he bit his lip and replied indignantly, "I'll grow later. My father's taller than Harry, you know-"

"But my mum's tall and dad's not exactly short. How tall's your mum?"

Scorpius dropped his gaze. "I don't know. I've never met her."

"Oh." Albus had the decency to remain silent for a bit before asking in his childlike innocence, "Is she dead?"

"No! I mean-" Scorpius took an unsteady breath. "I don't think she is. Father…he said she died when I was very small, but I don't think she's dead-"

Albus frowned. "Then why did he lie?" He didn't like people who lied. James lied to him all the time.

Scorpius shrugged. "I don't think…Father could bring me to tell the truth," he replied in a whisper of a voice. His father didn't know that he knew of course. But he wondered, as he had countless times, where his mother really was.

"Here we are boys," Harry said, stopping in front of the new wand shop. "In you go."

Scorpius followed Albus inside. "Look at all these wands!" the dark-haired boy cried excitedly and his shout was enough to alert the wand maker.

"Mr. Potter, what a pleasant surprise!" the old man cried, reaching over the counter to grasp Harry's hand.

"Tom," Harry smiled, "I'm back for my second son and for Scorpius here."

"Scorpius?" the old man said and Scorpius stared up at the old man as he peered down at him. "Mr. Malfoy's son?"

"The one and only," Harry smiled.

"Well then, who would like to go first?"

And of course Albus, who was used to competing with his brother and rather large extended family, at once pounced. Scorpius stood meekly by Ron's side while the wand maker handed Albus a wand one at a time. He tried them out: now smashing a mirror, blowing up objects, and setting things afire. When a 12" willow with unicorn hair finally burst forth a fountain of gold, both Harry and the wand maker sighed with relief.

Tom packaged the wand and Harry bagged it securely before beckoning Scorpius by his side.

"Ah, young Mr. Malfoy," Tom said as he searched for a wand, "I was with Oliver the day your father came for his wand. Smart young man-sharp tongue…" He pulled out a dusty rectangular box and blew on it, sending particles everywhere. "He came for a wand two years ago, you know. Curious wand he got, an elm, 15" with a threstal core. Very rare wand-dark…powerful…"

He picked up the wand with the tips of his bony fingers and held it out to him. "Give it a try," he said and Scorpius closed his fingers over the wood.

It felt cool to his touch. He flicked his wrist, murmuring a spell his father had taught him, and sent the lid of the box hovering in midair. Harry's eyebrows shot to his hairline when he recognized that spell.

"Blimey! Did you just levitate that thing?" Ron addressed the boy for the first time. Scorpius, who handed the astonished wand maker the wand back, turned innocent eyes to Harry.

"Father taught me that spell-"

"He lets you do magic?" Ron cut in, more sharply.

"I'm sure it's only in theory, Ron," Harry said quickly as he gestured the wand maker to pack the wand. That was done faster than anyone had anticipated.

Tom wrapped the wand in a new box before handing it to the small boy. "This is a cedar, 10". Flexible and strong with a phoenix hair and dragon heartstring core. A unique combination, my boy. Handle it with care."

Scorpius took the box, carefully placing it in his bag, before turning to look up at Harry. Harry thanked Tom and the group exited the shop.

"How did you do that?" Albus asked the moment they stepped outside.

"Do what?" Scorpius asked, hoisting the heavy bag that kept slipping down his thin shoulder.

"That-that _floaty _thing," Albus lamely finished.

Harry chuckled, overhearing his son. "It's called levitation," he gently corrected him, "And it's one of the spells you'll learn in Charms your first year. I'm surprised you managed on your first try Scorpius."

The blonde boy shrugged, thinking nothing of it, and Harry was even more surprised that he didn't feel the need to beam. Even Harry, modest as he was, would have blushed at the compliment.

"Father said he could do them when he was eight. He used to sneak his mum's wand to practice."

Oh. Harry wasn't surprised. "But I thought the Ministry tracked underage magic," he said to Ron who opened his mouth to respond, but was beaten to it by Scorpius.

"Grandfather knew. He let him practice in a special room with wards to prevent detection."

"How is it that your father told you that?" Ron exploded. "Don't tell me he lets you _practice _as well."

"Ron-" Harry reproached, giving his best mate a disapproving look. He was only a boy for Merlin's sake! But Scorpius seemed unfazed, used to people goading him about his father.

"Of course he doesn't," he calmly replied, "And he didn't tell me anything. Father hardly talks about his past with me. I only heard him speaking to Marie. I was eavesdropping."

Ron gaped at his smooth confession and, when he was sure the blonde head was elsewhere turned, muttered to Harry, "How much do you want to bet that kid ends up in Slytherin? He's sneakier than Malfoy and that's saying something!"

Harry only chuckled at the blonde's antics and shook his head. "For all we know, he may end up in Gryffindor. He's far too honest."

And he let a mortified Ron sort himself out while he ushered the boys to Florean's.

* * *

><p>As Scorpius settled down with his cone of chocolate ice cream, he decided he liked Harry's family, even if Ron was a bit rude sometimes. He watched Harry and Ron talking with James and Teddy, the two third years he hadn't met before. They were both tall, although Teddy Lupin looked lankier. He watched, amused, when Teddy's hair changed color from black to maroon as he laughed.<p>

Leaning over to Albus, who was busy licking his own cone, he whispered, "How did he do that?"

It took Albus a moment to figure out what the blonde was saying, but he answered readily when he did. "Oh, he can metamorph. Dad said his mum could do that. And his dad was a werewolf," he added as an afterthought.

"Was?" Scorpius prompted.

"Yeah, they both died during the war when Ted was just a baby. Dad's his godfather. He stays with us if he's not with his mum's parents or with Aunt Andromeda."

He suddenly gasped, turning wide green eyes to an equally startled Scorpius. "You're a Black, aren't you? Aunt Andromeda's a Black too. Do you think you're related?"

Scorpius blinked. "I-I don't know, but if I am…"

"Then you and Ted are cousins! Isn't that exciting?"

Cousins. Scorpius had never even dreamed he could have any other family besides his father. It had always just been the two of them, but with a jolt he realized he really _wanted _a real family-like Albus'.

"That would be nice," he whispered and Albus, seeing his wistful gaze, nudged him playfully in the ribs.

"You can have James and Lils anytime, Scorp. They're _really _annoying and I'd be more than glad to let you have them."

Scorpius laughed at his playful tone. "You called me Scorp," he noted.

"Like it?" Albus wiggled his eyebrows.

Scorpius couldn't help but smile. "Father calls me that."

"Then I better think of something else fast, haven't I? You can call me Al, by the way. Albus makes me sound way too old." And he made a face that set Scorpius laughing again.

* * *

><p>"They seem to get along fine," Ginny observed as the adults sat at their own table, dipping into their ice cream cups.<p>

Hermione, who rather preferred a sundae, added, "Anytime soon I think we'll be having a new addition at your house."

"Well I don't mind," Harry said before Ginny could reply. "He's a perfectly nice boy and Merlin knows Al needs to hang out with boys his age. James is really a bad influence on him and Fred's kids don't help either."

Ginny nodded with a sigh. "As long as they don't stir up trouble I don't see why not. Malfoy's son seems really quiet."

"Yeah and bloody brilliant," Ron snorted. "Rosie's going to have competition. We'd better warn her about him."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, don't try to turn them against each other already and Scorpius seems like a genuinely nice boy. I wouldn't be surprised if Rose ended up befriending him."

"As long as we don't end up planning their wedding," Ron huffed which earned him a playful smack on the arm.


	7. Chapter 7

**Happy New Year dear Readers!  
><strong>

**Chapter 7**

They went on with the shopping after and it was well into the evening by the time they got to the Floo Network.

"I'll take Scorpius home," Harry said to Ginny and they shared a quick kiss when their children weren't looking.

Scorpius said his good-byes, thanking the adults and an astonished Ron before stepping inside the hearth with Harry.

"Bewitch Alley!" Harry bellowed and in a moment the pair were tramping up the steps, dusting their clothes.

Scorpius knocked on the door and called his father's name when no one answered.

"Has he gone out?" Harry asked, looking around for any sign.

"No, Marie would have known if he had. He never leaves without telling her beforehand. He's probably in the shower or sleeping."

"At this hour?"

Scorpius shrugged, digging out a miniature silver key from his pocket. He tapped it twice and muttered something. A keyhole appeared. Into this he stuck the key and unlocked the door. The house was dark and quiet. Harry shivered and went to close the living room window that was letting in the cold draft.

"Father?" Scorpius called again, a hint of fear showing on his face when again he was met with silence. He made to go upstairs, but Harry suddenly stopped him.

"Let me look," he quietly said and the boy stepped aside before following him up the stairs. Harry held his wand tightly in his hand.

He didn't want to scare Scorpius, but his Auror instincts were on full alert.

"Is this his room?" he asked and the boy nodded.

Harry waited for two seconds, listening, before twisting open the door and thrusting his wand out. He needn't have bothered. The room was dark, but by the faint light spilling from the open window, Harry could see the lump under the piles of blankets. Malfoy was fast asleep.

"Father?" Scorpius scurried past him, climbing onto the bed with practiced ease and finding the blonde head buried beneath the heap.

Harry hid a chuckle when the small boy pried apart the blankets and shook his father's shoulder.

"Let him sleep," Harry said when the blonde man remained still.

Scorpius frowned at no one in particular before sidling off the bed. "He's got a fever," he darkly muttered, shutting the window with a shake of his head before disappearing in the adjoining bathroom. Harry could hear him rummaging around in the cabinet.

He tip-toed to the bedside and stood staring down at his ex-nemesis. He was out to the world, but he could clearly see his flushed features and light beads of sweat on his high brow.

"Father's so stubborn," Scorpius mumbled as he came back carrying a glass vial and a cup of water. "He makes all sorts of potions, but refuses to take them himself! Harry-"

Harry started at the boy's harsh tone. "Yeah?"

"Can you make him take these? He never listens to me." He held out the potion which Harry reluctantly took. "Tie him down if you have to-I don't care."

And before Harry could even blink, Scorpius marched out the room, slamming the door shut in his wake. Harry stared after him, a bit amused and startled at how demanding the boy was when angry. But he supposed he had reason to be angry…

He turned back to the stubborn man and wondered how he should wake him. In the end, Harry resorted to shaking his shoulder and calling his name the way Scorpius had. It took a few minutes, but alas Malfoy stirred and mumbling incoherently, cracked open his eyes.

"Scor?" he gruffly croaked, blinking to clear the sleep.

"It's me, Harry," Harry replied.

"Potter?" Draco started awake. "Wha-? Where's Scorpius? Is everything alright?"

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow as he calmly replied, "Everything's fine. We just got back to find you dead to the world. You've got a fever." And he held out the vial and water cup.

Draco blinked stupidly at them. "Yes, I know. I…What are you doing here Potter?"

Harry rolled his eyes, setting the vial and cup on the nightstand. "Your son thought I could convince you to take the medicine. He 's quite angry with you."

"Hm…" Draco eyed the potion thoughtfully. "He likes to mother me sometimes because I do it so much. He wasn't too much trouble was he?"

"No. He and Al got along great. I'm glad to see Al had someone his own age to talk to," Harry grinned. "And your son got his wand. He surprised us with a levitation spell. You wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?"

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. "I just taught him the theory," he whispered, "Did he really levitate something?"

Harry nodded. "He was quite modest about it. So unlike you-" and Draco shot him a frown which Harry returned with a good-humored chuckle. "I wouldn't be surprised if your son ends up in Gryffindor, although he's pretty sneaky for someone so young."

"And perceptive," Draco sighed. "I think I'm dealing with a Ravenclaw, Potter, and let me tell you, it's not easy. I'd rather a Gryffindor."

He looked up at Harry's astonished features before grimacing. "On another thought, I'd rather he be a Slytherin after all. You Gryffindors are far too noble and Ravenclaws never possess any life outside their books. I do want my son to have a social life."

"Oh I think he'll be fine there," Harry wryly replied. "He tends to draw attention even though he never seeks it."

Draco gave him a questioning frown, but Harry merely shrugged. "Are you going to drink that? Scorpius won't forgive me otherwise."

Draco took the vial glumly and stared at its contents. "I suppose…" He took a deep breath before downing the potion, grimacing and sticking his tongue out absently before chugging down the water. "I really need work on the flavor," he muttered while Harry tried to conceal his amusement.

"Why didn't you take it earlier if you knew you had a fever?" he asked instead.

"I hate taking potions. I can't stomach them," Draco abruptly replied, making to get out the bed. He was wearing a green flannel shirt that looked soft to the touch, one long sleeve rolled up to avoid aggravating the bandaged arm.

The door creaked open as he was stepping into his slippers and Scorpius padded into the room, a scowl evident on his pale face.

"Did you take it?" he asked, ignoring Harry's stifled chuckles and his father's own raised eyebrows.

Harry, who expected Draco to reply with snide sarcasm, was stifled in mid chuckle when Draco calmly replied, "Yes, love, I did. Although I wish you hadn't put Harry up to the task."

Scorpius merely shrugged, giving Harry a small smile before quickly hugging his father round the waist. Draco ran a hand through his son's blonde hair.

"Go take a shower. We'll have dinner after," he said and with a nod, Scorpius dashed out the room, an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.

"Is he always that affectionate?" Harry asked as he followed Draco down the stairs.

"More so. He's just embarrassed because you're here. Scorpius and I aren't used to company."

Harry pulled on his coat when they reached the living room. "Well, I'd better get going."

Draco nodded. "Thanks again."

"Stop thanking me so much. It's weird," Harry chided to which Draco laughed. "And if you need anything Malfoy, don't hesitate to floo me. I won't mind."

An readable emotion flitted in Draco's grey eyes, but before Harry could discern it, it was gone, replaced by the weary, cloudy grey. "I will," he softly agreed.

Harry grinned, flicking his fingers in a wave before apparating with a loud crack. Long after he was gone, Draco stood amidst the disappearing smoke.

* * *

><p><em>Note: I know this chapter was a bit short compared to my usual, but it was necessary to keep the content grouped together. The next chapter will be a little longer and I'll resume my usual length in the chapter after next.<em>


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

_This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet._

_~ Rumi_

* * *

><p>The day for Scorpius to leave came sooner than Draco anticipated and the morning found them scrambling to pack last-minute things.<p>

"Have you got your wand?" Draco called up the stairs as he levitated the heavy trunk to the porch.

"Yes, Father!" came Scorpius' shout before he came thudding down the stairs, his combed blonde hair flying every which way.

"Well, have your breakfast while I go tell Marie," Draco said as he pulled on his boots.

Scorpius was too excited to eat, but he didn't want to ignore his father when he was about to leave. So he obediently pulled the plate of warm bread and soup, munching away with his head up in the clouds.

By the time Draco came back and had his coffee, his son was done and waiting.

"Let's go, father! We'll miss the train!" he whined, impatiently shuffling his feet.

"You won't miss it," Draco laughed, leaning down to lock the house. "We'll floo there on time."

But Scorpius nevertheless grabbed his father's arm and pulled him along, his trunk levitating behind them. They flooed to Platform 9 ¾ and Scorpius breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the red and black Hogwarts Express, puffing in a cloud of smoke.

The station was more crowded than usual. Draco stowed the trunk safely away and then turned to his son, who had become suddenly quiet.

"You're going to have a wonderful time, Scorp," Draco reassured him, kneeling in front of him and taking his small hands in his own.

"I know," Scorpius whispered, tracing the worn lines in his father's fair face and wondering how many he would have when he would next see him.

"Well, study hard," Draco continued, "and whatever House you're in, try to make friends. I want you to have fun."

He poked his son playfully in the stomach and Scorpius stifled a giggle. "I'll write to you, Father," he promised with a smile as the whistle blew.

Draco pulled him into his arms, feeling how small and fragile he felt. Scorpius wrapped his thin arms about his father's neck and let him hold him.

"I love you," Draco hoarsely whispered against his ear before releasing him.

"Love you too!" Scorpius smiled, pecking his father's cheek before climbing into the compartment. He waved from the window on the door as the train revved along the tracks.

Draco stood, waving as well and blinking hard to keep the tears at bay. He wasn't a woman, but having raised Scorpius all alone, he'd come to feel like one. Still he smiled, ignoring the sadness and longing that engulfed him as he watched the train round the corner, taking his son another step away from him.

* * *

><p>The day after Scorpius' departure, Draco didn't return to the shop. He missed his son dreadfully and the house felt too quiet without him. Marie swung by in the evening and pulled him along to the tavern for a couple of drinks.<p>

"Children grow up Draco," she said as he gloomily downed his third glass. "Sooner or later Scorpius'll have to make his own way in the world. We can' always be there to hold their hand, as much we'd like to."

"I know," Draco sighed. "I'm just…worried about him. He's not used to being around other kids his age and-well, I hope he doesn't have trouble adjusting or making friends. Scorpius is terribly shy."

"Oh, don' you worry so much 'bout that little boy. He's as bright as they come and he's sweet enough to charm anyone!"

Draco smiled feeling comforted, and thanked her warmly before turning in for the night. Marie was right of course, he wouldn't be there to hold his son's hand all the time. He just hoped that if Scorpius should ever need him, he would know whom to turn to.

The next few days, Draco immersed himself in brewing the potion he's promised Potter before the accident. His arm and torso had healed. Besides, brewing helped take his mind off his son, whom he was constantly worrying about. _Was he eating enough? Was he getting along fine? Did he have any nightmares? Were the other kids treating him alright?_

He wished he could floo down to Hogwarts and see him, but Draco shuddered at the thought of visiting the school he had helped destroy. A week later, the school owl dropped off Scorpius' first letter. Draco eagerly read it. He had been sorted a Ravenclaw. Draco supposed it was the preferred alternative to Gryffindor. Scorpius went on to tell him about his lessons and the professors. Not much had changed at Hogwarts, but they had rebuilt the west wing and Slughorn had permanently taken Snape's place. He was pleased to learn his son enjoyed Potions and even liked Transfigurations. Draco had never favored it because Professor McGonagall reminded him too much of his father – strict to the core. He supposed he was glad he wasn't struggling at least. No, he knew Scorpius would do fine with school work. It was his social life that concerned him.

Albus Potter had been sorted a Gryffindor along with Weasley's girl. Scorpius said they got together to do homework in the library, but he hadn't mentioned any other kids. Draco worried how the boys in his dorm and house were treating him. He frowned, knowing Scorpius had never lied to him and hoping he wouldn't start now – not when it mattered.

He read the rest of the letter, smiling when Scorpius raged on about Quidditch and how he really wanted to try out next year. He described Ravenclaw Common Room, thinking it funny that their house symbol was a raven –Scorpius thought crows were much more clever.

**_My bed's the farthest in the dorm – right by the window – and I can see the moon every night. Everyone's got posters of some sort tacked up on the wall. Do you think I could get one sometime, Father? I put that picture I have of you and me down by the pond on my night stand – I took it without telling you. _**

**_Do you think it's alright to eat by the lake? Al says there's a giant squid in the water and that James told him it likes to eat students. He said boys have drowned in the water. I told him we could test it out, but Al doesn't want to. He's going to ask Mr. Potter. _**

**_ I like Hogwarts, Father. It's just like how you described – giant castle and everything. I've got DADA early tomorrow, so I better sleep now, but I just want you to know that you don't need to worry about me. Take care of yourself and don't miss me too much!_**

**_Love,_**

**_Scorpius._**

Draco laughed and shook his head. His son was more honest on paper than in person. He reread the twice more before creasing it back in the envelope with a sigh. He looked at the large barn owl that had brought the letter and set a bowl of pellets in front of it, adding a side of cup of water. The owl dug in with a soft hoot. He stroked its head absently before settling down to write his son a reply.

Scorpius had written a fairly long letter and it was very well written, considering his age. Draco wanted to take the time to write as well and put in as much thought as his son had. He appreciated Scorpius taking the time to write to him. Draco himself had only ever written letters to his mother and they had all been cheerful, saying nothing of his troubles or the amount of work he had to do, or his latest fight. His father had never bothered to stay in touch – hadn't even cared to ask Draco why he never wrote to him – and so Draco had never bothered. He didn't want to be like to Scorpius. He wanted his son to tell him about his troubles as well as his triumphs. He wanted to be there to laugh or cry with him and he wanted Scorpius to know that.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_I'm glad to know you've settled in at Hogwarts – are you sure you're not even a little homesick? I missed home terribly at first – mainly because of your grandmother. I hope you're eating enough and healthy. Hogwarts is perfectly cozy, but I want you munching on fruits along with those chocolate truffles!_

_Now, what's this about the lake? I don't want you to believe everything someone tells you, Scorp. James Potter isn't lying – there is a giant squid in the water – but it hardly feeds on little children. And what are you going to the lake for in this weather? It must be freezing! I'd go down for a picnic when it's warmer. The lake looks beautiful then – all blue and clear._

_It's nice to know you're getting along well with Albus Potter, but it's also important to make friends in your own house. What about your dorm mates? You'll have to partner up in some classes and you'll not always have Albus to share with._

_I won't say anything more on the matter, but Scorpius, if there is anything or anyone bothering you – for any reason – don't hesitate to tell me. It's what I'm here for. You are an amazing young wizard, Scorp, and people who don't take the chance to know you will never understand that. No matter what happens, I want you to be yourself and hold your head high. Whatever your grandfather and I did has nothing to do with you. You are not to blame._

_On that note, we should have packed your things more carefully. I forgot to take you to the menagerie in our haste. How would like your own owl? Or would you prefer a bat? Let me know what you want and don't worry about the cost. There should be a catalogue on the library on the latest species. The menagerie in Diagon is very well stocked._

_I've enclosed a few posters. You can put up the ones you like – or you can leave them unopened and we can buy other ones if you don't like them when you come for the holidays._

_I'll try not to miss you, but just remember what I've said. I'm always here for you, Scorp._

_Lots of Love,_

_Your Father_

Draco paused and looked over the letter. He laid the eagle quill back in its pot, leaving the parchment to dry as he stretched. He was going to have to hunt something for Scorpius to put up in his room. Draco didn't see the point in decorating the walls, but if his dorm mates were doing it, he didn't want Scorpius to feel left out. It seemed he was standing out plenty already. He supposed he was going to have to make a trip to Diagon – or should he just ask Marie? He could nip down to London and… Draco shook his head. He really had to get over his fear of being noticed, but it was hard when he knew he would never be forgive.

He checked the time: 12:30. It was past midnight. He supposed he could pick something up on his way to work tomorrow. So thinking, he snuffed out the candles and burrowed under the blankets.


	9. Chapter 9

_Just finished my finals and am celebrating with a post! Christmas Cheers ^_^_

**Chapter 9**

_"Bad news isn't wine. It doesn't improve with age."_

_Colin Powell_

* * *

><p>Draco's letter reached Scorpius three days later. He was munching on his toast, watching the owls swooping in with mail and hardly expecting anything for himself, when the large barn owl plonked the package right on his head. He was so happy that for a few minutes, all he could do was stare. Neglecting his breakfast altogether, Scorpius dashed outside the Great Hall and into a safe nook in the hallway before sitting down to open it.<p>

He eagerly ripped the plain paper and out furled several rolls of paper along with an envelope. Curious, Scorpius laid aside the rolls and picked up the envelope. His name greeted him in his father's calligraphic scrawl. His father had the neatest handwriting he had ever seen, although it was a bit cramped.

He carefully slit the envelope and pulled out the parchment. It was a fairly long letter, though not anywhere as long as he had written. Still, he couldn't blame his father for trying. For the next several minutes, Scorpius read the letter; smiling in triumph when his father assured him of the harmless giant squid (he had told Albus so!). He was touched at how honest his father was and glad that he was kind enough not to push him, even though he had suspected correctly of how alone Scorpius was.

It was natural for the children of former Death Eaters and the Light Side to hate him because he was a Malfoy. It didn't help that his father had been the one to let Death Eaters into the castle. They had repaired the whole west wing and tower, along with several other reparations. Scorpius didn't think he could forgive his father for causing so many people harm, but he knew his father wasn't that scared boy anymore- and he loved his father, dearly.

Given all things really, Scorpius thought his father had suffered enough. He wished people would just forgive and move on, if not forget. It wasn't as though his father was the Dark Lord and besides, his grandfather had paid for his actions. Wasn't that enough retribution?

Scorpius sighed and tucked the letter back in. He placed the letter neatly in his bag before peeking at the rolls of shiny paper. He could see the animated pictures making up the posters. Rolling them up carefully in his bag, he dusted himself off and headed off to his morning class.

* * *

><p>Draco owled Potter exactly three days after Scorpius' departure, notifying him of the potion's completion. He had been so immersed in his work to ward off thoughts of his son, that Draco had managed to brew the difficult potion in half the expected time. As was custom, Potter came after hours to pick it up. Draco had been expecting him this time and while Potter stood inside his little shop, dripping little puddles of water from his drenched raincoat, Draco carefully filled and stoppered five vials as requested.<p>

"Here," Draco said, handing over the packaged vials. "Keep them out of the sun and avoid mixing them with water."

Harry tucked the package in his robes with a nod and a smile. He seemed to be scrutinizing Draco. "How are you holding up?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Fine. It was bound to happen one way or the other."

"Our kids seem to get along great," Potter smirked. "I reckon we didn't rub off on them as much."

Draco managed a weak smile. "Scorpius is incapable of hating anyone without good reason." He picked up a small pot on the counter with a snaking plant and heart shaped leaves. He could feel Potter's eyes on him as he examined the leaves one by one.

"Are you closing?" Potter asked.

Draco plucked off a yellow leaf and set the pot back down. "I have a few more hours-"

"It's past midnight."

"I know. I've been working late." He looked up, waiting for Potter to leave and raised an eyebrow when the man continued to fidget.

"Would you-would you like to grab a pint?"

Draco started. "What?" Was Potter serious?

He shrugged. "Just thought you might like a break. There's a bar down the lane-"

"Potter, it's raining and this is Knockturn. You don't want to hang around here for too long."

Harry ran a hand through his dripping hair. "I guess you're right." He made to button his coat as Draco added,

"I could make a cup if you'd like."

"You have alcohol here?"

"Coffee," Draco dryly replied. "There's Earl Grey if you prefer that."

"No, coffee's fine."

They shared a quick smile before Draco ducked behind the counter to unearth the mugs and powder.

"So did Scorpius write to you yet?" Harry asked as he removed his coat. He hung it on the back of Draco's stool while the blonde man flicked his wand to boil two cups of water.

"Yes, just last week. He was sorted Ravenclaw."

"Just like you predicted."

"Mm…Milk?"

"Please and add some sugar. Al has yet to write to us, though I know Gin has already sent an owl. He doesn't really like writing."

Draco stirred the drink before handing Harry his mug. "Your diabetic coffee."

"You drink yours black?"

"As should you," Draco replied, taking a sip. It was his fifth cup of the day, but he had needed it. He hadn't slept too well last night, thinking of his son. "How are your other kids doing?"

They talked for well over an hour before Harry decided to leave. "Are you sure you're going to work more? You could use some sleep, Malfoy. There are circles under your eyes."

"Pot kettle," Draco sneered and then sighed. He was tired. "I guess I'll go home too." While Harry pulled on his coat, Draco went about closing the shop. He double checked the spells around his garden before grabbing his own coat. He locked the door and stuffed his hands in his pockets as they walked down the dark alley.

It was a terribly cold night. Their breaths fogged before them in smoky puffs as they carefully steered their way down the narrow, cobbled streets. Draco sighed when they broke into the brighter and wider streets of Diagon Alley. All the shops were closed, but there were still lights on here and there in the houses above the shops. The streets were well lit besides.

"I guess I'll apparate from here," Draco said when they reached the first apparition point.

Harry nodded. "We should meet sometime outside the shop," he said, "I expect our kids will want to spend more time outside Hogwarts together."

Draco nodded and gave him a weak smile. "Have a good night Potter."

"You too, Malfoy."

And with a loud crack, Draco was gone.

* * *

><p>Draco didn't see Potter after that. They both went back to their own lives, but Draco found it hard to forget the man. He hadn't talked to anyone from Hogwarts for years until Potter showed up. The shock of seeing him had brought back buried feelings and nightmares that Draco had thought he was over. Between battling his guilt and worrying about his son, Draco had had too many sleepless nights.<p>

He stared at himself in the mirror as he woke up one Saturday morning. His eyes looked bruised and he seemed older than his age. Sighing, he ran long fingers through tangled strands. His hair was getting long again, but he didn't want to risk going to a barber's in Diagon and Draco didn't trust himself to cut his own hair when he couldn't very well see the back of his head.

Sighing, he dragged himself out of the bathroom and trudged down to the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee. The owl from the _Daily Prophet _had already delivered the day's newspaper and Draco picked it up from the hearth, dusting it off as he settled in the armchair to read the news with his coffee. He took a long swig as he unruffled the paper, skimming the headline, and almost spit the drink out. Shocked, Draco abandoned his coffee and read the whole article:

**Ginny Potter Murdered!**

Ginerva Potter, married to Harry Potter, was found dead in a secluded back alley just off of the main route to Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Although details remain, she was taken immediately to St. Mungo's and declared dead within the hour. A full investigation has been launched to search out the culprits. A private funeral will be held tomorrow at the Potters' grave in Godric Hollow. While her husband saved the world from the Dark Lord, Ginerva Potter played her own role during the Resistance and the Great Battle of Hogwarts. She remains….

Draco wrenched his eyes away and shut the paper with trembling hands, unable to read anymore. He felt sick. Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter's wife and mother to his children, was dead – no _murdered. _He licked his lips, trying not be overwhelmed as his brain rushed a mile a minute thinking about what this meant.

Were they back? Who will they target next? Was there going to be another action taken against former Death Eaters? It raised too many questions. He took a sip of his now cold coffee and grimaced at the taste. A quick warming charm later, Draco drained the mug in one gulp and summoned more. He frowned as he thought what this could mean for Potter.

Although he didn't know the man well enough now, he had known him pretty intimately through their rivalry in school and Draco knew Potter was not the sort to just take it. He knew he wasn't going to let this go, even if it meant hunting down those murderers alone.

And what about his kids? Draco's heart sank. He knew what it felt like to lose your mother. Even with all her faults, Draco had loved Narcissa and to know that his mother had taken her own life was a shock that he still felt deeply traumatized by. How was it any different to learn that your mother had been murdered in cold blood?

He thought about Scorpius and his breath quickened. Scorpius was friends with Albus Potter. Even if he didn't read the newspaper, he likely knew what had happened – Draco suddenly got up and rushed upstairs to grab parchment. He had to write to his son and make sure he was alright. He had to warn him to be on his guard incase angry students decided to retaliate. he had to –

His hands shook as he scribbled a few sentences. Tears pricked his eyes and he dropped the quill, sinking to his knees when his past grabbed him once more in a choking hold. Merlin! Would he ever escape it? Could he ever move on?

Burying his head in his knees, he sobbed, thinking of his mother and the horrible things he had witnessed at the Manor. He thought of his sixth year and the look in his Headmaster's eyes when he had pointed his wand at him. He heard his Aunt Bella's insane laughter and smelt the putrid scent of Greyback. He tasted burning flesh on his tongue –

Draco suddenly scrambled to the toilet and collapsed next to the bowl, throwing up miserably. Shivering, he pressed his back against the wall, trying to calm his erratic nerves. He couldn't fall apart. He had to stay strong for his son. He had to be there for him – let him know he cared. Wiping his lips, Draco once more made it to the desk and sat down to write. He dipped his shaking quill in the ink pot, quill posed over new parchment. Taking a steadying breath, he gathered his thoughts and pressed the tip to the paper.


End file.
